


brief recollection

by maylioflowers



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Ndrv3 - Freeform, Oma Kokichi Dies, back with 4 am sad shit, bye bye ouma, kaito is here for like 30 seconds, oumasai, this is shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17371085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maylioflowers/pseuds/maylioflowers
Summary: kokichi ouma is about to die.he thinks about his personal favorite person in the killing game before dying, however.





	brief recollection

**Author's Note:**

> this is shit im just sad so i gotta hurt the boys

The metal of the press is actually rather cold, Ouma notes to himself. Not that he was expecting it to be anything great, anyways.

He inhaled, watching as Momota walked over to the controls of the hydraulic press. The astronaut looks over at Ouma, a strange emotion on his face; apologetic? Upset, maybe? Either way, he seemed conflicted. He mouthed what appeared to be a "thank you, I'm sorry" to Ouma, before setting to work with the press.

Ouma didn't know why Momota was even sorry. Well, that was a lie; he did. Momota was upset because he was ultimately killing him. Ouma didn't think there was much of a reason to be sorry, though. He'd wanted this, and if their plan worked out well, everyone would be safe, and the killing game would be brought to an end.

He'd barely even realized the press had started moving. God, they could've made the death machine just a little bit faster for his benefit. He closed his eyes, smiling to himself in a vaguely half-hearted way.

Not that his death mattered much to the people in this place, anyways. He was pretty sure all of them hated his guts, especially after the last trial with Gokuhara.

Well, almost all of them.

Somehow, despite literally EVERYTHING that Ouma had done, Saihara Shuichi still kept trying to get along with him. Whenever he was just trying to sit and scheme out new things to do, Saihara would come up to him and start a conversation about god-knows-what. Sure, he was certain most of it was just him trying to figure out more stuff about Ouma himself and the killing game in general - Saihara wasn't exactly that subtle - but he appreciated it nonetheless.

It was kind of a shame. Having Saihara join his organization if they'd gotten out of here would have been a benefit to their work ethic! He would've immediately gotten a high position at DICE - hell, he could've been his second in command.

Although, he really doubted Saihara would want to join DICE. It'd probably end up with him being the detective who chases DICE around. That'd be fun too, just in a different way.

Being completely honest, he really hoped Saihara would make it out of here alive. In his mind, Saihara had already made it out of here; he was smiling, proud of himself for making it out of here alive, and overjoyed to help the few survivors left. It was a nice idea.

Saihara would be fine, he was sure of it. Despite being surrounded by people who were ultimately dunces, he himself was beyond smart, albeit lacking confidence.

Ouma smiled; a real smile this time. The idea of Saihara being happy and surviving brought him actual hope. Sure, he wasn't going to be alive with him, which sucked, but he could at least imagine it! The wide smile on his face, the joy at being able to get out with everyone, the life he'd get to live after leaving this hellhole, the-

Ouma couldn't finish his train of thought as the press crushed his body, splattering blood on the floor and all over the press itself.


End file.
